Название | The One Man to Heal Her |
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Автор произведения | Meredith Webber |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
Had she sounded depressed that Will reached out and covered her hand with his?
Nothing more than a sympathetic touch, but it fired Alex’s slowly settling nerves again. She removed her hand to close her menu.
‘I think I’ll have the rack of lamb,’ she said, far too brightly.
Will waved the waiter over, gave their order, talked to him about a good red wine to have with the lamb. They would sell it by the glass, which was all he wanted.
The waiter returned with a bottle of red, showed it to Will, offered him a taste, then poured them both a glass.
Will lifted his to toast Alex, who clinked her glass with his and kind of smiled. Maybe it would have worked if sadness hadn’t still been lingering in her eyes …
Not that he’d meant to notice her eyes—
‘So, Glasgow? What on earth were you doing there?’
This time Alex’s smile was better, and he heard an echo of laughter in her voice.
‘It’s actually a very lively city, and I had a dream job. Then Dad got in touch and—well, here I am. As I said, I’m a cardiologist and although I hope I won’t get a lot of intensive-care patients, I imagine we’ll see a bit of each other around the hospital. I’ve joined a practice here.’
‘Brian Lane’s?’
Alex nodded.
‘But that’s great, he’s a good friend of mine,’ Will said, smiling enthusiastically. ‘I have a room in the same building—we’ll be running into each other all the time.’
Before Alex could reply—well, what was there to reply—the smile faded from Will’s face and he asked, rather uncertainly, ‘It is good, isn’t it?’
His sudden uncertainty told Alex that he was as unpractised in the relationship game as she was. Not that this was a relationship. Will was still obviously getting over Elise, while she, Alex, could make an epic disaster of even a casual date.
‘I think it’s good,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve already made my homecoming so much easier, Will, so having you around as I learn my way around the hospital will be fantastic.’
His face lit up as his luminous smile returned, and Alex was swamped by a shivery sensation of …
What?
Happiness?
No, that would be ridiculous.
Fortunately, the waiter returned with their dinners, and operating on her rack of lamb, separating out the cutlets, gave Alex time to recover from whatever it might have been.
Will was talking about Charlotte now, apparently answering the questions Alex had asked earlier in the conversation.
And in every word Alex heard the love this grown-up Will had for his little daughter, while the happiness she’d brought him shone in his eyes.
‘She sounds great,’ Alex said, and to her surprise Will blushed, much as he had as a young man when she’d caught him hanging on the fence.
‘I talk too much about her when I do go out. Mum says I need to do some speed dating to get back into the way of speaking to women. She says Charlotte needs a mother and she’s probably right.’
Serious brown eyes met Alex’s across the table.
‘But I’ve got out of the dating habit,’ he admitted, before adding ruefully, ‘Not that I was ever that good at it. Do you remember Isobel telling me—some time that year—that I should write out a list of things to talk about before going to a party? Questions, she said, ask women questions about themselves and actually listen to their answers—that’s very flattering.’
Alex smiled.
‘I suspected at the time she was talking to me as well. She kept encouraging me to go out and meet young people. As I remember, you were all of a dither because you thought this girl you liked would be there, right?’
She studied Will, whose entire attention now appeared to be on his meal.
‘Did it work for you?’ she asked.
He looked up and smiled, and although the now-familiar reactions to his smile tumbled through her body, they stilled when he answered.
‘It did,’ he said quietly. ‘The girl was Elise.’
Which killed that conversation dead, Will realised as the words landed between them with an almost audible thump.
He had to think, to say something—anything—because talking to Alex was making him feel good inside, while looking at Alex—well, best he didn’t consider how that was making him feel!
But where was his list?
Ask questions, Isobel had told him way back then.
He stopped pretending to be eating and looked up at the woman across the table from him, delicately cutting morsels of lamb from her cutlets.
‘How did you feel about coming back to Port?’
She met his eyes, and smiled.
‘Ask questions, huh?’ she teased, then looked thoughtful, as if actually considering her reply.
‘Hearing from my father—that was a shock. After so many years, it took a while to take it in, but then I reread his letter, saw the bit about his health, and coming back seemed the only possible thing to do—the natural thing. As if it was time …’
How could he not reach out to rest his hand on hers?
How could he not squeeze her slim, warm fingers?
‘It must be hard,’ he said, and her smile brightened.
‘I don’t really know yet,’ she said. ‘In the taxi, coming from the airport, seeing the river and the sea, well, it felt right. In fact, I felt a surge of excitement, as if this was where I should be. But since then I’ve been at the hospital and then here—not really home at all.’
‘But you’ll go home—to your old house—stay there?’
She nodded.
‘I think so—for a while at least, while Dad convalesces, then we’ll see how it works out. It’s been nearly twenty years since I left home, Will, and I don’t really know him any more.’
Her smile this time was less joyous, nothing more than a slight curl of her lips, and her eyes held Will’s as she added, ‘It might sound strange but up to that time I was happy here, you see. I had a wonderful childhood with the river right beside us. I think I’ve let what happened to me affect my life for far too long. I want to start again, back in the place where I belong.’
He wanted to kiss her, in praise of her courage, nothing more—well, almost nothing more.
‘If anyone can do it, you can,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ she said softly, lifting her hand from under his and replacing it on top, where it sat, warm and comforting, although wasn’t he supposed to be comforting her?
She really should stop holding his hand. This was just a dinner between colleagues—old friends—not a date.
But holding Will’s hand felt … nice. Pathetic word but it covered the situation.
Very nice would be even better—
A low ping of a message arriving on Will’s mobile broke into her thoughts, and the gravity on his face as he read the message told her it wasn’t good news.
‘I’m sorry, Alex, but your father’s had a setback—heart attack or stroke. His surgeon is on his way, but I’ll have to go.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Alex said.